Day at the Movies

Since such an episode may never be paralleled in my lifetime of catching films on the big screen, I must record a nouvelle experience that I had while patronising the cinema at Cathay Cineleisure just yesterday. Arriving at a what I thought was a hotspot for teens, punks, Slyvester clones and veterans who refuse to admit that they are past their prime, I was taken aback to see floor after floor of gleaming glasses and polished marble, without a single soul in sight. Perhaps, it was the time - about ten in the morning. Grateful for the empty row at the box office, I purchased a ticket for Monsieur N at eleven and checked to see if I had brought my ezlink card since proof of age always seems obligatory for someone like yours truly. Little did I know at that point in time that I had no need of either.

At the stroke of eleven, when the sun had almost reached its apogee in the sky, I headed towards the cinema, ticket in hand, and saw no-one. So I strolled my way through a narrow corridor and past a red curtain to see that the entire complex was inhabited, for the time being, by a very old couple of Caucasian descent. They stared at me. I looked at my seat number and sat next to them. For the next two hours, the three of us enjoyed a restful and uninterrupted screening of a critically-acclaimed picture that happened to be rated NC16. It was one of those rare occasions when I could have treated all my friends and acquaintances to the movies without digging into my pocket.